


Second Chances

by Yulliah



Category: Twilight (Movies), Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-25
Updated: 2012-06-25
Packaged: 2017-11-08 13:03:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/443481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yulliah/pseuds/Yulliah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How many times do you actually try before giving up?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Second Chances

**Author's Note:**

> I had this bunny in my head and it didn't let me go until I wrote it! So here it is! I hope you'll enjoy it!
> 
> Thank you, as always, Harrytwifan the fast as lightning beta-wonder and KGQ the only woman that can kick my ass and get away with it! Love you both!
> 
> A/N: Twilight? Nope, not mine!

  


"Get out!" I screamed, while grabbing on to the back of the dining chair tighter. My knuckles were white from the strain my grip caused them, but it was all I could do to keep myself from lunging at him. Why was he here? Why had I let him in? And why was he still standing frozen in his spot, looking at me as if _I_ was the crazy one out of the two of us.

"I said, get out!" I screamed again, raising the volume of my voice. My throat was already feeling sore, and it wouldn't take me long to lose my voice all together. Tears of rage and hurt were prickling in my eyes, but I wouldn't let them go. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing how much I still cared for him. How much I would _always_ care for him.

He still wouldn't leave. Instead, he slowly made his way towards me. I knew I shouldn't let him. I backed up away from the table, not even realizing that I was still clutching the chair until it tipped and I let it go. It hit the hardwood floor with a bang that echoed through the kitchen. It didn't phase him in the slightest as he still came towards me.

I took another step back, but found myself backed up against the kitchen counter. I was scared, so fucking scared of what I knew would happen when he reached me. My heart was stuttering in my chest, heavily anticipating the pain that would most certainly follow.

"Please, Jasper, don't!" I pleaded, but he still reached out his hand. I closed my eyes in an effort to resist, but I knew it was futile. There was nothing I could do to really stop him, except fight harder. And I no longer had the will to fight; not against him. With one last deep intake of breath, I prepared for it and squeezed my eyes shut.

At the first touch, breath hitched. As always, his touch grounded me, made me feel so fucking safe and calm. Home, that was what it felt like. But it shouldn't, it couldn't. We were so far past safe and home that it brought bile to my throat even thinking about it. But explaining why he made me feel this way -still- after 9 fucking years of fighting, was beyond me.

He angrily pressed his lips against mine, persuading me to open up for him, but I didn't. I kept my lips squeezed shut, not wanting to give in and start all of it over again. I couldn't take it another time. It wouldn't even break me, because I was already broken. Too many pieces of torn hearts and lost souls. Too many shatters of a once hopeful relationship. I was broken, and I truthfully could no longer be repaired.

At least his touches soothed the agonizing wounds and his kisses were like cooling ointment on the smoldering ruins of my burning pain. He had always been the only one who could stop my hurt, and yet he'd been the cause of it every single time.

We were both to blame, I knew that. I knew so very well that it hadn't always been _him_ breaking _my_ heart. I hurt him just as badly, maybe even worse.

And for the love of everything, I couldn't figure out why we were back here. His body flush against mine as my resistance slowly but surely faltered. I could never really say no to him, like he had never been able to refuse me. We were there again, at start of yet another ending. Fools for even hoping this time would be different. Believing that this time, we might work it out.

As his hands searched and found the small of my back, rubbing his thumbs over my fabric covered skin, I gave in and met his tongue with fever. His taste so familiar, his smell intoxicating. He was all I wanted and all I wished I'd never met.

I met him at the start of my residency in the ER. He was brought in with some minor injuries after he crashed his bike, and I was immediately taken away with him. Tall, fit and about my age, Mr. Hale was a wet dream come true. He had a cocky smile that flashed his sexy dimples and made my knees feel weak. His messy dark curls framed the side of his face when they escaped from behind his ear and his blue eyes reminded me of the ocean.

He only winced when I had to cut open his jeans in order to stitch him up, but it wasn't because of the pain. I chuckled when he commented that they were his favorite pair, and he responded with a scowl.

"I'm sorry," he said. "You think it's funny that the best pair of jeans I have bought in years get ruined by your scissors?"

I shook my head and cleaned his leg wound. "I think your accident ruined them first," I retorted and started stitching. "What is so special about them anyway?"

"Are you serious?" he asked. "Look!" He rolled over on the table and pointed at his ass. I wasn't looking, as I was trying not to drop the needle that was still attached to his leg by the thread I was stitching it with.

"Will you please sit back and let me fix your leg?" I asked, trying to ignore the way his jeans stretched around his strong thighs. I really didn't need to look at his ass. I thought he was gorgeous without giving it a peek, and was actually worried that my growing erection would get painfully obvious if I have it a glance.

"No!" he said loudly. "Look!"

I sighed, trying to make it sound irritable, and took a quick look at his ass. To be honest, he was right; Those jeans looked good. However, it might have been because of the fine ass they were snuggly covering. And yes, my cock just swelled another inch at least.

"All right, nice jeans," I grumbled. "Now please sit back."

I could feel my cheeks flush as he cocked an eyebrow at me and smiled broadly. But he did sit back down and I got back to work.

"Aren't you a bit young to already be a doctor?" he asked. I huffed. Yeah, I knew I still looked like I was seventeen rather than twenty-four, but it irritated me when people commented on that. I had even taken to the gym and filled up some to look more my age, but it only changed my body, not my face.

"I'm old enough to have gone through three years of pre-med and another four years of medical school," I answered.

"Soooooo," he said, while looking up at the ceiling, numbers crunching in his brain. "That makes you twenty-four? twenty-five?"

"Twenty-four," I answered, as I cut the thread and reached for a band-aid.

"You don't look twenty-four," he said and I shrugged my shoulders.

After I was done, I stood up from my stool and turned my back to him. "Keep those stitches dry for the next 24 hours and come back in about a week to have them removed," I instructed and removed my rubber gloves.

"Thanks, doc," he said, getting up from the examination table. "Guess I'll see you in a week."

I didn't answer, but replied to his smile with a curt nod. I couldn't have answered if I wanted to, because his fucking dimples had my throat feeling like a desert, and talking would have been impossible.

As he walked away, I chanced looking at him again. He really was right –– those jeans were perfect and so was his ass.

When he came back the week after, I was caught up in a hectic situation, assisting the trauma surgeon on call with stabilizing a 42 year old woman who crashed her head through a window. I only noticed him as I ran out of the trauma room to get a nurse to page a neurologist.

I was slightly disappointed, because all week I had been looking forward to seeing him again. But I really didn't have time to ponder over it.

It took another hour before the woman was stable enough for surgery, and my shift ended thirty minutes before. Though everyone knew that your shift didn't end before your current patient is in another doctor's capable hands. I was dead tired after nine long hours on my feet, and changed out of my scrubs quickly in order to get home.

When I walked up to the nurse's station to say goodnight to my sister Alice, who had just started her shift, I noticed his messy dark curls in the waiting room.

"Hey, Alice," I said, still looking at the man over my shoulder. "Why is he still here?"

Alice glanced over my shoulder and smirked. "Dr Denali took out his stitches, but he wanted to wait for you. Something you forgot to tell me, Edward?"

I didn't answer her question, asking one of my own instead. "He's been waiting for me?"

Alice nodded and raised her eyebrow in question. I shook my head in confusion and turned away from her, making my way to the man in the waiting room.

"Mr Hale?" I asked nervously. Shit, it was hard keeping your voice professional when your entire body screamed to touch someone. I'd never really felt this level of attraction for anyone, let alone a practical stranger.

He turned around and his smile almost knocked me off my feet. Yes, he'd been waiting for me and no, it had nothing to do with his leg or his stitches. He'd been waiting for me to ask me out. And even though a few minutes earlier I wanted nothing more than my shower and my bed, I found myself agreeing to a cup of coffee without hesitation.

We spent the rest of the day together. We talked for hours; getting to know each other, debating the safety of motorcycles and telling funny stories. It was like neither of us wanted to end our time together. When there was only nine more hours left until my next shift, I asked him for his phone number.

Our relationship developed quickly and passionately. Within a week after our first coffee date, he stayed the night at my place, and soon after we moved in together. I was a resident with a lot of student loans and he was just starting his own business in making and selling custom motorcycles. We didn't see the point in both having our own place when we were always together, and to be honest, sharing the rent of an apartment in a city like New York was more than a blessing.

We were happy. We were in love and we thought we would last forever.

But we hadn't lasted forever. In all fairness, it took us about six months to split up the first time. It was just something stupid, something that shouldn't even have been a problem in the first place, if I hadn't been so fucking insecure. I knew Jasper was a flirt and I also knew that he would never cheat on me, but I still jumped the walls when he hired Bella.

Until then, it hadn't bothered me that Jasper was bisexual. He'd never looked twice at anyone since he was with me, male or female, but she was different. She was clearly infatuated with him and all but offered herself up to him on a plate. And he looked at her –– oh, he looked. I knew that glint of attraction in his eyes all too well. He wanted her and if he hadn't been with me, he would've taken her.

For me, it started with feeling uneasy that I wasn't the only one that could peek his interest anymore. But unease quickly turned into paranoia and jealousy. The proverbial green monster raged and it raged without rationality. I was checking his phone, smelling his clothes and following him to work. I drove myself crazy, to the point where I finally realized that she had something I could never give him. He was bisexual and I only had half of the genitals that interested him. I could never win, so I left.

Three months it took me to realize my mistake. Three months of being a whiny brat, spending my days feeling sorry for myself and missing him. God, how I missed him. I missed him whenever he wasn't near, whenever I couldn't feel his warmth laying next to me at night. Oh hell, I missed him every single minute of every single day. But it never really changed anything until our paths crossed again.

This time it was his sister, Rose, who ended up in the ER. As soon as I saw her walk through the doors with her arms around her stomach, I rushed toward her. She was about seven months pregnant and preparing to be a single mother, after her boyfriend left her a month before Jasper and I broke up.

She told me she'd had cramps for a couple of days and they had only gotten worse. I helped her up on a bed and ordered a series of tests before I paged an obstetrician. I wasn't taking any risks with the life of Jasper's sister and her unborn child.

I sat with her while she waited. I wanted to ask about him, ask how he was doing. I wanted to know if he missed me as much as I missed him, or if he'd gotten involved with Bella after I left him. I didn't dare ask, though, not sure if I could handle the answer. Instead, I asked about her and how her preparations were going. She told me all about the house she bought and how she decorated it. When she excitedly told me about the metal crib Jazz built her, my face fell.

"Edward, honey, look at me," she said, and I lifted my gaze to meet hers. "You miss him, don't you?" she asked and I shrugged. "No, Edward, I need you to tell me how you feel, because he's a mess without you. And he's on his way right now. So if you still love him and want him back, do something about it. But if you don't, I need to ask you to leave, because I can't allow him to hurt more than he already does."

"H-he's a mess?" I asked her. God, could it be that he still wanted me? Even after the shitty way I treated him? After I left him without any real reason? Because, come on, really? That whole crap about only having half the genitals he was interested in was bullshit. I liked cocks; thick cocks, long cocks, short cocks, straight cocks, curved cocks... you name them, I liked them. But still, I was only really interested in him, no matter what kind of cock he had. Though I had to say that his was kind of perfect. Why would it be different for him? He didn't fall in love with my fucking dick, he fell in love with me.

Like he said when I left him; He didn't need tits and a pussy, he didn't miss it and he wasn't interested in it. Like I wasn't interested in another man's fucking cock.

I realized that now, and I beat myself in the head on a daily basis for letting my own insecurity fuck up the best thing that ever happened to me.

"Jesus, Edward," Rosalie said angrily. "Don't you know how fucking much my brother loves you? The only question is if you love him as much as he does you, because I swear to God, if you pull this crap again, I'll hurt you!"

"I do!" I hastily replied. "I love him and I feel like such a fucking idiot for leaving. I was stupid and I should've just talked to him instead of driving myself crazy with jealousy. I want him back, Rose, more than anything."

I heard someone clear his throat, and when I turned around, everything fell into place. Jasper eyed me with a hesitant smile and I had my lips on his in a split second. Closing my eyes, I slid my arms around his neck and kissed him for all I was worth.

For a couple of seconds, I was scared Rose had been wrong. He tensed up and didn't respond to my desperate attack on his mouth. My heart was beating violently in my chest and I could feel tears forming behind my closed eyelids. But then his hands were on my hips, pulling me closer to him, and he opened his mouth to meet my tongue. Home, yes, that's what it felt like. I'd come home.

I moved back in a month after Rose's baby was born and we were as happy as ever. Bella still worked at the shop, but it no longer bothered me. I knew I was all Jasper wanted and there was nothing that could shake my trust in him, in us.

I finished my residency and started a fellowship at the same hospital; working long hours, but loving every minute of it. Jasper's business was booming, opening shops throughout the country. I was so fucking proud of him. However, the new stores brought about more work. More hours, more meetings, weeks spent away from home, and it broke us up. Neither of us could stand the strain our jobs put on the relationship, and in the end we were at each other's throats whenever we were together.

Three years into our relationship, we took a break to find some answers –– but you know how these things go. Taking a break only ever means that you've broken up, and Jasper broke my heart when he had sex with someone else. He had every right and I couldn't blame him. I might have done it myself if my head hadn't been filled with thoughts of him the entire time. And that's what really struck me. I couldn't just have a one night stand, because I loved him too much. Clearly, he hadn't loved me the same way if he could just fuck some random guy.

After that, I moved away to Chicago. I couldn't risk faltering and reaching out. I knew all Jasper had to do was wink and I'd be back at his side. I tried to move on. I even tried dating a couple of guys, but I only ever compared them to him and they never compared well. I was lonely, I was depressed and I was so Goddamn happy when he showed up at my door nine months later.

We fell into each other's arms in an instant, no need for words or any other forms of communication apart from his mouth on mine and my arms around his neck. It still hurt, it still pulled at my heart that he'd been with someone else, but that pain didn't compare to the pain of not having him in my life.

When I say we didn't talk about it, I didn't just mean that night. We _never_ talked about it, like we never talked anything through. It was okay, at least it was okay for about two years, because that was when it all went to shit again.

This time, I fucked it up and I fucked up royally. It seemed like the third time was the charm for us, but it wasn't. I still don't understand what the fuck I was thinking, but after a huge fight about him wanting us to move to Europe and me refusing to go with him, I stormed out. I'd been at the fucking bar for hours, dreading going back and having to finish our argument. I was ranting to the barmaid at first, but as alcohol flowed freely, I found myself crying into my beer. I was beyond caring; sad and angry. More like furious. Where the fuck did Jasper get the right to decide for us to move to another fucking continent? And Germany! I didn't speak German, I didn't even _want_ to speak German. Why did he even want to expand to Europe? We were happy in America! His business was doing great! And what the fuck was I supposed to do there? I _had_ a job and a fucking good one at that!

"Here, here!" a guy across the bar from me yelled, eyes fixed on mine. Only then did I realize that my internal monologue had been more external than I thought. The guy –– dark haired and lean, much like Jasper –– picked up his drink and sat down next to me. He flirted and it felt so fucking good that I went along with it. I knew that what I was doing was wrong and I still hate myself for it up to this day, but I did it anyway.

I didn't plan on going any further than just the flirting, and actually decided it was time for me to leave and face the music at home, when Garrett -that was his name- leaned in and kissed me.

I already had my hands raised to push him off when I was jerked back forcefully. Two raging blue eyes bore into mine before Garrett got hit in the face by my man and I was roughly pulled outside. He yelled and cried and I didn't know what to do. My mind still foggy with alcohol, I tried to pull him towards me, but he pushed me away and told me he never wanted to see me again.

Once I sobered up in a half empty apartment, I realized he was serious. He left _me_ this time and I was sure that was the end of it.

'Never' lasted exactly four months, six days and roughly fourteen hours.

There was no real reason to run into each other in a city this size, and I was fairly sure that Jasper went to Germany without me. So this time, I didn't shun our usual hide-outs like I did the first couple of times we split up. I went to every party, dinner, and housewarming our friends threw and he never did. It hurt, but it hurt even more that it was my own fault. Maybe I didn't actually cheat on him, but I'd been there, instead of talking things through. I ran like a rebellious teenager and even stamped my feet before I slammed the door behind me. And worst of all, I liked it, I liked the attention Garrett had given me. I let him flirt with me and I flirted back, needing to know that I was still desirable. I needed to feel wanted by the wrong man and lost everything.

I saw him first, standing in line at our favorite bakery. On Saturday mornings, one of us would always go out and pick up breakfast, usually here. It was one of the places I did shun, though. Not because I wanted to keep out of his way, but because it held too many memories. I could see him smile at the baker through the window and a familiar stab shot through my heart.

It didn't even take me more than a minute to run and hide. I didn't want to run into him. I knew what I would see on his face and I couldn't handle that. I couldn't see his blue eyes show his anger and disappointment. Instead, I waited around the corner for him to leave.

Once he was out of sight, I made my way inside and ordered my regular. Only when Sally -the baker- cocked her eyebrow at me, I realized that I ordered too much. Enough for two. Enough for both Jasper and me. And I lost it.

In the middle of a fucking bakery, with people standing around me and Sally watching me wide-eyed, I sobbed and cried. I didn't even try to hold it in, as I knew that would be a lost fight. I didn't care that I looked like a weak-ass sissy. I didn't care that the door opened and more customers walked in. Not until I heard his voice.

"Edward?" he asked, making me cry even harder. He sounded so loving, so caring. It just made me remember all those times that he'd used that tone on me, and I realized that was all over, all in the past. I felt his hand on my arm, slightly tugging at me, but I couldn't move. His touch, like always, was a comfort I didn't deserve. A feeling I couldn't allow myself to get lost in. I couldn't. I wouldn't.

"Edward, come on, sit down, please?" he said. There was no conviction in his voice, no hatred, and I dared look up at him. He looked horrible. Grey circles under his eyes that I knew mirrored my own. His usual neatly ironed clothes looked like he'd slept in them, and his ever clean-shaven jaw was covered in stubble.

But however miserable he looked, he was still the most beautiful man I'd ever laid eyes on and I loved him. I still loved him. I loved him so fucking much and I missed him.

I couldn't stop the whispered words from leaving my lips and cringed when his eyes hardened and his lips pulled into a tight line. I hung my head and wiped my tears away with the back of my hand, preparing to leave, but he stopped me.

"I miss you, too," he said, and ran a finger down my arm, sending a shiver down my spine. Excitement and hope fueling my confidence, I looked back up at him and he smiled. And God, how I loved his smile. "Let's talk," he said while taking my hand and pulling me toward the door.

We sat on a bench in the park, sharing the bread rolls he got from the bakery, in silence. I wanted to say something, but I didn't know what. Was there anything I could say to fix this? To fix us? I couldn't think of anything of significance, so I kept my mouth shut. Just enjoying what might or might not be the last time we spoke, or a new start.

"I tried," he said after a while and I raised my head, meeting his eyes before he went on. "You don't know how much I tried to hate you." Again I cringed, knowing full well I deserved his hatred, his contempt.

"I tried, but I can't do it," he continued, surprising me. "You hurt me, Edward. I know we weren't always perfect, but seeing you kiss that guy-" He turned his head and stared at a couple of kids playing near the tree line. He took a few deep, stuttering breaths and fisted his hands. Slightly shaking his head, as if ridding it of the memory of that night, he turned back to me.

"You really hurt me, but it hurts even more to not be with you," he whispered, reaching out his hand and cupping my face. I leaned into his touch, closing my eyes as I felt his warmth radiate through me. He'd always been my home and he still was.

"I just want to know why, Ed. I try to forget and God knows I want to forgive, but I need to know why you did it." His pained words grounded me. We couldn't just go on where we left off. As much as I wanted to, we couldn't. We needed to talk about this and we did.

I told him every single detail about that night. I'd been drunk, but in my guilt I couldn't forget it. I remembered how Garrett smelled, what he said, what I said in return. I remembered the feeling of his rough lips pressed against mine. I remembered how I was shocked and how my whole body recoiled against the unwanted kiss. And I remembered Jasper, the pain and fury in his eyes as he pulled me off the guy. I remembered everything and Jasper listened, never interrupting, but I could see in his eyes that he didn't really believe me.

"I can't help but wonder what would've happened if I hadn't come looking for you," he said after I finished. His eyes were fixed on the ground, like the growth of the grass beneath our feet was the most interesting thing in the world. I wanted him to look at me. _Needed_ him to look at me.

"Jazz, please believe me when I say that nothing would've happened. I would've pushed him away and gone home to you," I pressed, but he didn't look up. Not right away.

He ran his hand through his hair, his eyes closed, and he sighed deeply before he said, "Okay."

My breath hitched, holding it in, waiting for whatever came next.

He took another deep breath and raised his head. "Okay," he said again, but with more conviction now. Then he leaned in toward me and kissed me chastely on my lips. And at that particular moment, I was the happiest man alive.

We tried taking it slow at first, but we spent every single moment together from then on and Jasper asked me to move in with him after a month. I thought he just wanted to be with me as much as I wanted to be with him, but I soon realized that he didn't trust me.

We used to go out on our own; spending a night in a pub with a friend was never a problem. Now, Jasper didn't leave my side. He went everywhere with me and even started driving me to the hospital. I didn't like it, not one bit, but I thought I deserved it. If this helped him, I could live with it and I thought it would change. I really thought that once I showed him that he could trust me, he'd stop.

But he always found a reason to think I wasn't faithful. A single hair on my shirt, a weird smell, even smiling at someone, always ended in a huge fight. Each and every time he steered back to that one night and every time I tried to reassure him that I wouldn't have done anything. He never ever believed me and in the end, I had enough.

He had a flat tire and called me to let me know he couldn't pick me up after work, so I accepted a ride from Dr. Newton, a new young general surgeon at the hospital. I was running a little late because his shift ended half an hour later than mine, and when I got home Jasper was livid.

I wasn't even halfway through the door when he grabbed me and shoved me up against the wall. "I knew it!" he screamed. "Who is he, Edward? Tell me who the fuck he is or I swear to God!"

I stared at him for a minute before my gaze dropped to his hands fisting my jacket. I took both his hands in mine and tried to get him to let go, but he only held me tighter. I raised my head and looked him straight in his eyes as a sense of calm washed over me. "Let go, Jasper, now," I said in a flat tone, and his eyes widened a little before he allowed me to remove his hands.

He took a step back, his eyes dropping to the floor before he ran his fingers through his hair and stared back up at me with a guilty look on his face. "I-I'm sorry, Ed, I don't know what came over me. I-" he stumbled, but I cut him off.

"Shup up! Just shut the fuck up!" I yelled. I was done, done with the constant paranoia, done with him, with us! "I can't do this anymore, Jazz," I sighed. "It's been over a fucking year and I didn't even do anything. Hell, I didn't even _want_ to do anything."

He reached out, but I batted his hand away and turned my back to him. "I couldn't even sleep with someone else when we weren't together, let alone when we were. I haven't slept with anyone other than you in the last eight years."

I turned back toward him and shook my head. "I don't understand why you won't believe me, I really don't! And I've put up with your crap, all of it, because I thought it would get better. It hasn't, it's only got worse and I'm done, Jasper, we're through!"

He opened his mouth, but I held up my hand to silence him. I took one last look at him and picked up my keys. "I'll stay at a hotel tonight and be around to pick up my stuff later this week," I said, and left.

I bought a house on the other side of the city, going for a clean break. As if our history could ever allow for a clean break. I tried and failed to move on, to build a life without him. But even after nine more months of separation, I was lost without him.

Though this time I wouldn't go back, not again. I needed to accept that he and I would never work; we proved that every time. I didn't even know what exactly it was that made us unable to live with or without each other, and truthfully, I didn't even want to know anymore. I just wanted this lingering pain to end.

I barely met up with my old friends, knowing every connection with Jasper would hold the bond between us. Instead, I made new friends to go with my new life, my new lonely life. Dr Newton, Mike, was a great guy. I spent a lot of time with him and his wife Jessica and even went on vacation with the two of them. They tried to hook me up with a friend of theirs, Tyler. The guy was cute, that wasn't the problem, but he wasn't Jasper. None of them were Jasper.

I'd gotten home late today, changed into my lazy pajama pants and sweater combo, ordered a pizza, and spent my evening watching a movie on the couch. I was tired, though I knew I couldn't sleep. I hadn't slept well since I left him, tossing and turning without really finding any rest. I was pathetic and a moron and I knew that I was probably unconsciously holding on to him.

The doorbell startled me, and I considered ignoring whoever was at the door, but I got off the couch and walked into the hallway anyway. I didn't even look through the tiny peephole before I opened the door, and I should have. God, how I wished I had.

He was gorgeous as ever, his long curls cut into a short but messy haircut. It looked good on him, though I didn't think there was anything that wouldn't look good on him.

"What are you doing here, Jasper?" I groaned. He couldn't be here. He _shouldn_ _'_ _t_ be here. It would happen again and I couldn't go through it another time.

"Can we talk?" he asked.I threw up my hands and walked into the kitchen. He closed the front door behind him and followed me.

I chose the kitchen for a reason; I didn't want him to stay long enough to sit down and I needed some form of physical barrier between us. The dining table would suffice.

He leaned up against the doorframe, playing with the hem of his shirt. He didn't look up at me and I was somewhat thankful for that. I waited and waited, but he didn't say a word and I got impatient.

"You are the one who wanted to talk, Jasper, so talk!" I snapped, and his eyes met mine.

He opened his mouth a couple of times and ran his fingers through his short locks before he started. "I'm sorry," he said and sighed. I waited for him to continue, but he didn't and it pissed me off even further.

"What the fuck are you sorry for?" I bit. "For not believing me? For being a paranoid little shit? For jumping to conclusions and shoving me up against a wall? What is it, Jasper? For what fucking thing are you apologizing?"

His right hand grabbed the doorframe and he lowered his eyes. "All of it. I'm sorry for all of it, Ed," he answered, barely audible. But then he straightened up and said the words I was afraid to hear and needed to hear at the same time. The words that would spiral us back into whatever we were.

"I should've known you weren't fucking anyone else, and I did know, deep down. I shouldn't have cornered you every single moment of the day and I shouldn't have let my paranoia take over. I can't be without you, Edward, I'm just not good at it. I love you, I will always love you. Please, give me another chance!" he begged, and I hesitantly took a step toward him, clutching a dining chair to keep me from leaping into his arms.

"So, now what do you think would've happened if you hadn't come into the bar that night?" I calmly asked. I needed to know the answer to this one question. It was the most important answer I needed. If he could just believe me on this one thing, I knew there was a chance we'd be okay.

"Ed," he said in a pleading tone, trying to stop me from demanding an answer. It wouldn't work; this was the one thing I wasn't willing to shut up about.

"No, Jasper, I need to know!" I said, raising my voice a bit.

"Edward, please, I don't care anymore," he tried, but I wasn't backing down on this one.

"Have your thoughts about that night changed or not?" I almost yelled.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, battling within himself to either lie or tell me what was going on inside his head. I knew he'd tell me the truth –– he never lied to me –– so I just waited.

"I don't know," he said. "I honestly don't know."

And that's when I screamed for him to get out. That's when he wouldn't go. Instead, he cornered me against the counter and kissed me. And I gave in. I always gave in.

His hands slipped under the hem of my sweater, slowly pulling it up and over my head, taking my shirt with it. My emotions were raging inside me, instinct contradicting rationality. Push him away, draw him closer, scream, moan, hit him, caress his skin... it drove me insane. My sweater fell to the floor, immediately followed by his jacket.

His naked arms against my bare skin made me shiver. His hands made my body come alive, like it emitted tiny electric sparks everywhere they touched. It was both intoxicating and addictive, making me softly moan and whimper against his lips for more. More heat, more skin, more him. His shirt, I needed it gone, like right the fuck now!

I tugged and pulled at it, frustrated that he wasn't moving his arms to help me as they were tightly wrapped around my waist. I didn't want him to let go of me, so I just pulled it up as high as it would go and ran my fingers over his back. Up his strong muscles and back down his spine. Lower and lower until they found the waistband of his jeans. I wrestled my hands underneath and grabbed his ass within the confining fabric.

I could feel the muscles in his ass tense under my touch, making me moan and dig in my fingers. Losing myself entirely in this amazing feeling, I grinded my cock up against his. The sound resonating through the kitchen was guttural and I had no idea who made it. Maybe it was him, maybe it was me. Hell, it might have been the both of us for all I cared.

I backed him up towards the door, pulling back one hand to feel my way. I wanted this, I wanted him, but not in my kitchen. Awkwardly kicking off his shoes, he let me lead him. Through the hallway, up the stairs and to my bedroom, his mouth never leaving mine.

It wasn't slow, it wasn't rough. No, this was utter desperation and need. A need to be as close to each other as we possibly could. A need to connect through a way that never failed us for nine years. A way that let us communicate without any hesitance or restraint, in perfect synchronization. Telling him what I couldn't say with words. That I was still his; mind, body and heart.

As soon as the back of his knees hit the bed, I reached for his fly, eagerly popping the buttons. He pulled back slightly and cupped my face, looking at me intently as his thumb carefully grazed my cheek bone. His eyes were weary, searching mine for something. Forgiveness? Acceptance? I couldn't tell and I couldn't answer his unspoken question. I didn't know what the hell we were doing or why.

At this moment, I didn't want to know. I didn't want to remember all the reasons why this was an incredibly bad idea. Why I would regret this tomorrow morning, or even later tonight. Why it would torture me and make me feel like my heart had once again been ripped from my chest.

For now, I just wanted to be complete and Jasper was the only one that could make me feel whole. I needed him to make me feel whole again, even if just in this moment. So instead of answering him, I showed him all I could give him to settle his worried mind. I showed him that whatever would be there for us in the morning, I wanted to be with him tonight.

I claimed his mouth again while stripping his jeans over his hips as far as I could reach. He struggled to get them off all the way, hopping on one leg after the other, his hands holding on to my hips for balance. I would've chuckled if there had been anything remotely easy about this. As it was, I just reached for the waistband of my pajama pants and pushed them down until they fell to the floor.

Pushing him back, I let us fall to the bed, where I tangled my legs through his in an attempt to get even closer. Naked but for his shirt, we grinded and kissed and grabbed and pressed.

"Edward, I need..." he mumbled against my lips. I didn't need him to finish; I knew what he wanted. I trailed my mouth down his jaw, over his throat to the sensitive spot where his neck and shoulder connected. Hungrily sucking on his skin, I slid my hand between us, taking both our cocks in a tight grip.

He moaned loudly and bucked his hips to thrust between my fingers and my hard length. The friction felt good, so fucking good. I sucked harder, knowing I was leaving a mark, wanting to leave a mark, wishing with all I was that it could be permanent.

With my free hand, I reached for his balls, rolling them between my fingers and gently tugging. His growl was feral, coming deep from within his chest. It resonated through my lips as it passed through his throat.

He brought his hand to his mouth and slicked his palm. When he pressed it against the heads of our cocks, my eyes rolled back. I let go of his neck and gasped. The gasp quickly turned into a low moan when his hand started moving over the swollen flesh, sending sparks of pleasure throughout my body. My back arched and he lowered his head.

First his tongue lazily lapped at my nipple, but soon his teeth pulled at the tight nub, pulling it back and letting it go. God, Jasper knew my body in a way I didn't even know it myself. Always feeling exactly what it was screaming for and delivering as I begged and writhed for more.

I wanted to be inside him so fucking much, to feel his body open up for me, just for me. Letting go of our cocks and his balls, I took his waist and rolled him on top of me so that he straddled my thighs. I blindly reached for the drawer of my night stand, pulling it open and searching it for my condoms and lube. His mouth playing with my nipple was making it difficult, but I finally found what I was looking for.

When I popped the cap of the bottle, Jasper raised his head. He held up his hand, silently asking me to lube his fingers and I did. As much as I liked to prepare him, I loved seeing him do it himself even more. He lay back, his head falling back over the edge of my bed as he pulled up his legs and took his dick in his unlubed hand. The sight was magnificent and I couldn't help but reach for my own cock as well.

I watched as his long finger pressed against his hole and it slowly gave way. He groaned as his knuckle passed through the second ring of muscle and held it still for a moment.

"Fuck," he whispered when he started to slowly pump his ass with his finger. "So tight."

He slowly pressed a second finger inside and held his breath. I sat up and crawled beside him, running my hand up his thigh and over his hip. I kissed his shoulder, his arm, and his stomach while rubbing small circles on his hip with my thumb. He slowly relaxed and closed his eyes, pumping his fingers faster and faster.

When he added a third finger, I could hear him panting and moaning in pleasure. I raised my head and looked at his face. He was so fucking gorgeous laying back like this with his mouth half open, his features strained in bliss. I reached for the condom and quickly opened it with my teeth. It didn't take me long to slide it over my cock and cover it with lube.

Jasper opened his eyes and pulled his fingers from his ass. I reached down and kissed him, our tongues battling as he grabbed a fistful of my hair and moaned into my mouth. I pulled him with me when I sat back against the headboard of my bed again, and he took the base of my cock. Slowly, he lowered himself over my length, making me moan as the head pushed through his tight muscle.

When I was fully sheathed inside him, he rolled his hips to adjust his position with a swallowed moan. I ran my hands over his chest, loving the feeling of his hot skin under my fingers. We just sat there for a moment, enjoying our connection before he lifted his hips and pushed back down again. Over and over he moved his ass up and down, looking me straight in my eyes.

Even though his movements became faster and faster, it was sensual and so much more than just sex. We were so natural together, primal in our lust, but loving in our hearts. Sex with Jasper had always been the best I ever had.

He took my hands in his and entangled our fingers on his thighs, his cock bobbing up and down while he fucked himself on my cock. I couldn't hold still. I let go of his hands and took hold of his hips tightly, lifting him up and bucking my hips, thrusting inside him with force.

"Come on, Ed, fuck me," he groaned and threw his head back. Again I thrust as deep as I could go, his ass slamming against my thighs. Faster and harder I fucked him, until he was trembling on his knees as the muscles in this legs strained with holding his position.

I sat up and pulled his legs around my waist before sliding my arms around his. With my cheek pressed against his chest, we found a new rhythm, moving together as he rolled his hips to meet my thrusts as his cock grinded between our stomachs. His skin was covered in a thin layer of sweat, making his scent even more potent. I inhaled deeply and as he moaned that he was about to come, I lost myself in him, giving up and letting go.

My orgasm was overwhelming, intensified by Jasper biting my shoulder in his own release. Fuck! If I died and went to heaven in this moment, I'd be disappointed, because heaven could never top this feeling of ultimate satisfaction and bliss.

Jasper leaned down and kissed me open-mouthed, our breaths heavy and labored as we came down from our mutual high. I let myself fall back against the pillows and he lay down next to me with his head over my heart. I played with the hair on the back of his neck while he stroked my happy trail with his thumb. Home. Yes, it really felt like home.

But as we lay there in silence, my doubts reappeared. All the reasons why we shouldn't do this again raging through my head like a virus, tainting everything that just happened. I pulled back the hand on Jasper's neck and ran it through my own hair, pulling off the condom with the other and dropping it next to the bed.

My deep sigh made him raise his head and look at me. I could see his face fall as he took in my pained expression. As good as it felt to have him next to me, I couldn't do this again.

"Please, Edward, don't do this," he said, threading his fingers through mine. "Don't tell me to go."

I pulled away from him and moved to sit on the edge of the bed with my back to him. I lowered my head to my hands and sighed. "Why not? Nothing has really changed. What do you think would happen? We'd be happy for about a month or five, then something will shift and we won't talk about it. Fuck! We never talk about it. We just go on and pretend everything is fine until it bursts! And I can't fucking do it again, Jazz. I don't think I'll be able to pick myself up again!"

I stood up and put on my pajama pants before I turned to face him.

"We really need to stop the bullshit and grow the hell up. Move on, Jazz, that's what I'm trying to do," I said in a harsh tone, watching him closely.

"I don't want to move on!" he shouted, throwing his arms up in the air. "I want you, Edward! We can make this work, I just know we can! This time w-"

"This time _what_ , Jasper? What would be so fucking different this time? What miraculous thing made you think that this wouldn't be the start of another ending?" I yelled, cutting him off mid-sentence. "The only thing that could give us even half a chance is couple's counseling, but _you_ don't do therapy!"

The last time I brought it up was right after we got back together the last time. Alice had scolded me for even thinking about giving this relationship another chance and she told me I'd 'better find a fucking good therapist' as I would need one after the next time we broke up. We didn't speak for several weeks, but her words did give me stuff to think about.

When I proposed the idea of therapy to Jasper, however, he'd brushed it off immediately. He wasn't about to tell his deepest secrets to some stranger and let that person tell him how to love me. I told him it wasn't like that, but he wouldn't bend and I didn't bring it up again, avoiding the argument like I always did.

"Well," he said, lowering his gaze to the floor. "I've actually been seeing a therapist for the last couple of months, Edward."

To say I was shocked would be putting it mildly. With wide eyes, I just stared at him while he measured my reaction from underneath his eyelashes. "You-," I tried, but I didn't have a clue what to say to him. What changed? What broke through his stubborn refusal to go to therapy? "Why?"

He ran his hand through his hair like his long curls were still there, and I briefly wondered when he'd cut it. His face was flushed as if he was embarrassed. "When you left, I wanted to go after you straight away. Beg you to stay and not give up on us, on me," he said, barely audible. "Rose stopped me, saying I should think things through more thoroughly. She helped me realize that all we ever did was rush into things without taking a step back to look at what was actually wrong.

She was right, Ed," he said. "I thought about us, about you and about me. I realized that I didn't like what I'd become when we got back together last time. I didn't want to lose you and I was so fucking afraid you would leave me again. I don't even think I really thought you would cheat on me, but I was scared. I handled it badly and hurt you. I had a lot of issues to work through, so I got help. Because you deserve so much more than the asshole you left nine months ago."

With a groan, he fell back against the pillows on the bed. "I'm an idiot for thinking you would give us another chance." He chuckled humorlessly and threw his arms over his eyes. "I never believed in second chances until I met you and now here I am, asking you for a fifth."

I didn't answer, still shocked by his admission. After a while, he raised his head and sat up, leaning on his elbows. "You know, Edward, you're probably right. I should grow the fuck up. But not by moving on, because moving on would be running away," he said calmly.

I snorted and leaned back against the wall. "Moving on would be the sensible thing to do," I replied, my heart and mind conflicted. "I'm not running away from anything."

"Not running away? Do you even grasp the concept of running away?" he yelled at me in frustration. "You _always_ run away, even when you tried to get me to do therapy together! I said 'no' _once_ and you gave up right away. You avoid conflict, Edward, you always have. Whenever we have an argument, you just turn your back and walk out on me."

"That's not fair!" I responded. "You know what? I'm not doing this! If you won't leave, I will!" I yanked the door open and started towards the hallway.

"Not fair? Not _fair_?" You're fucking doing it _right_ _now_!" he called after me, making me stop dead in my tracks. "I said _one_ thing you didn't like and you're running out again. You _live_ here for fuck's sake! How is this not running away?"

I hung my head. He was right, of course. I knew he was right. _Fuck_ _!_ I had been running. I'd been running away since the first time Jasper laid eyes on Bella, never standing up for myself and telling him what I wanted. I ran when he wanted us to move. I ran when he was controlling and didn't trust me. And here I was, again not voicing my concerns, but running out of my own freaking house with... Shit, had I really been willing to run out only wearing a pair of pajama pants?

I sighed. I needed to tell him what was really bothering me, what I was really afraid of. I turned around and walked back into my bedroom. He looked up at me, still half-sitting on the far side of the bed. I sat down next to him with my legs under me, leaning with my side against the headboard.

"How do I know that you will really try?" I asked him. "How do I know that you won't quit counseling as soon as the therapist says something you don't like?"

"I'm not a quitter, Edward. I'm here, aren't I? You walked out on me and I came after you. I came after you every fucking time," he replied and reached out his hand.

I took it and intertwined our fingers, placing soft kisses on his knuckles. "Yes, you did, though I cannot understand why."

He leaned in and cupped my cheek with his free hand, forcing me to meet his stare. "Edward, I love you. I have always loved you and I can't imagine my life without ever seeing you again. I want us to work, babe. I'll do anything to make us work."

I could see tears in his still pleading eyes and felt the last of my hesitations cave. "Okay," I said and swallowed hard.

"Okay?" he asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Okay," I replied, scooting a little closer to him. "Let's do this therapy thing. Together."

**Author's Note:**

> Please let my know if you liked it! Love, Yull...


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